


Ginnie, Dutch, Arthur, and Charles Do a Heist

by Cheshagirl



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: F/M, OC, OC/Canon, ginnie and dutch sittin in a tree, they have a plan and thye should KISS, vanderbee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 18:16:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16897572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheshagirl/pseuds/Cheshagirl
Summary: There's a caravan coming through with money, and guards who scorned Ginnie years ago. So they steal some money and Dutch relfects on his feelings for Ginnie.





	Ginnie, Dutch, Arthur, and Charles Do a Heist

**Author's Note:**

> I'm self-indulgent please support me and my oc/canon content
> 
> Patreon - cheshagirl | Ko-Fi - cheshagirl

Ginnie trusted her Raiders, she really did, they were like family to her and she’d die for them without question. But this robbery, this was personal and she needed someone who would ask no questions, who wouldn’t know this was for her own gains. She required only a few hands, but skilled hands, so naturally she turned to the Van der Linde gang. It was easy to convince Dutch to help out, he hated the law and banks nearly as much as she did. From there it was a tougher choice, trying to figure out who they’d bring along with them. Arthur was an obvious choice, level-headed, experienced. They eventually decided on Charles to be their extra set of eyes and ears. 

Their target was the small caravan passing over the bridge by Horseshoe Overlook over the Dakota River. The caravan included only three wagons, full of weaponry, salary, and the lawmen that the salary was going to. Ginnie had overheard some drunken deputies talking about it several days ago and they had mentioned the name of several lawmen who had refused to help her years ago. Now Ginnie had left this part out of the information she shared with Dutch and his boys, there was no need for them to know after all. The mission had been going smoothly until a group of reinforcements appeared forcing them to split up, Charles and Arthur running farther inland, Ginnie and Dutch following the side of the river. 

“They’re on us Dutch, come on!” Ginnie shouted as a bullet whizzed by their heads. They had, unfortunately, been followed by the officers. Ginnie turns, firing at the men behind her and successfully felling one. Donner, her horse, had taken off during the gunfight so Ginnie had hopped onto the Count behind Dutch, becoming the shooter as Dutch focused on outmaneuvering their adversaries.

“I’m going as fast as I can, woman!” Dutch retorts, swearing under his breath when another officer appears in front of them and they’re forced to swerve down a trail along the cliff of the river. 

“Just keep shooting and I’ll get us out of here!” Ginnie grimaces but keeps silent, and continues to pick off officers until one is left. His shire thunders toward them with his face glowing red in anger. Ginnie lifts her pistol, lining up her shot, and is about to claim her victory when the Count rears to a halt suddenly, twisting to the left. As she tumbles Ginnie clutches for Dutch only for him to slip from her grasp and be thrown to the ground with her. Her shoulder jams into the ground, her head spins from the pain but she manages to watch as the officer stumbles past them, unable to reign his horse on time. They slip over the edge, whinnying and screaming until they hit the rushing water below. Ginnie forces her body up into a sitting position, her visions swims but she manages to locate Dutch kneeling by the cliffside. Ignoring the ache in her shoulder, Ginnie crawls toward him, following his gaze to the river below. She stares down, watching the dead horse and officer be swept away. 

“What the hell did you get into here?” Arthur’s voice rings out behind them. 

“Count bucked us off when we got to the bend, guess he got spooked.” Dutch replies, standing up. Ginnie pushes loose strands of hair from her face as the men converse and slowly the adrenaline fades, her shoulder stops aching, and her chest fills with emotion. An ecstatic feeling swells in her body, warming with accomplishment.

“We…” The men turn to face her as she interrupts. “We did it!”

Ginnie leaps up with a cry and barrels herself into Dutch’s chest, arms gripping his torso as she swings them around. Her mind clouds with relief, and it feels as though some weight is lifted from her shoulders.

“We killed ‘em, Dutch!” Her arms shift to wrap around his neck and she begins to jump. “Those bastards got what they deserved!”

Her glee fades when Dutch cautiously pats her back, nervous laughter leaving him. Flushing at the realization of her proximity to Dutch, and her outburst, Ginnie quickly pushes away from him and brushes the dust from her jeans. She clears her throat nervously and says, “What I meant to say was, thank y’all for comin’ with me.”

Arthur chuckles at her from his horse, a knowing smirk on his face. She quickly turns her gaze away from him and to Charles, who has Donner’s reigns in his hands. 

“Well, that certainly was exciting.” Dutch finally clears the silence after he and Ginnie have mounted their horses. “Let’s head back to the wagons and see what we can salvage.”

The ride back to Dutch’s camp after raiding the wagons is short and quiet. Dutch rides ahead with Arthur, sharing soft words between each other while Ginnie rides behind them. Charles, after speaking with Dutch, had decided to split off and hunt deer he had previously seen in the area. When they arrive at camp, Ginnie dismounts from her horse and tethers him to the pole, nodding to Arthur as he bids her good day and disappears to his tent. Ginnie makes her way toward Dutch’s quarters, stopping to greet Ms. Grimshaw and the girls before preparing herself to discuss payment. In front of his tent, she fixes her ponytail and pushes the canvas aside but freezes when Molly O’Shea and Dutch turn to look at her.

“Why’re you here?” Molly snarls.

As much as Ginnie wanted to be acquaintances with the redhead, said woman had grown to detest Ginnie from her extended time spent with Dutch since meeting. Their relationship had been kept strictly platonic, mostly discussing robberies and trading information on certain targets. Ginnie found Molly’s constant glaring and nosiness irritating but tried to stay civil around her.

“I was here to talk about splittin’ the money but I can see you’re busy.” Ginnie addresses Dutch, ignoring Molly’s remark.

“No, she can wait,” Dutch waves his hand dismissively, a signal for Molly to leave. “Discussing your take is more important.”

Molly snorts indignantly before leaving in a huff, pushing past Ginnie.

“Careful Dutch, you’ll turn her into a scorned mistress with that attitude.” Ginnie jokes. “And nothing’s more dangerous than a scorned woman.”

Dutch lifts an eyebrow, but smirks and turns to the money he’d laid out on to his makeshift table of crates. 

“Now, Miss Bee, I believe most of this wealth belongs to you?” Dutch states. Ginnie rolls her eyes at the nickname, despite the flutter her heart does and nods before sitting across from him.

“I don’t need much of ‘em Dutch, we hit a caravan of wealthy city folk trying to find themselves last week,” Ginnie responds. “I wasn’t in it much for the money anyways.”

Dutch frowns at this and leans in, eyes searching her face. Ginnie curses herself for letting her motives slip and wishes Dutch would let it lay but that was not the kind of man he was. 

“Do tell?” Ginnie meets his level gaze and sighs. Her eyes drift to her hands, picking at her nails before she explains, “There were a couple men in that caravan who… offended me a few years ago.”

Dutch’s eyebrows lift and Ginnie knows he’s waiting for the truth. He can see through her bullshit quite clearly, another reminder to Ginnie not to cross him. Giving in, Ginnie tries to summarize her story as briefly as possible, “I… lost my farm years ago to some bandits. I wanted help, protection, justice for what they’d done to me. I went to the local authorities, even the Pinkertons that had been passing through and they’d all laughed at me. Told me a young woman like myself had no business working a ranch all alone and that I should’ve stuck to sewing and housework. One of them even tried to get me to sleep with him as a payment so then maybe they’d consider looking into the bandits. They were also the ones that arrested me for getting my revenge on those damn bandits.”

Ginnie frowns as her memories replay. She can remember each face of the men who had laughed at her when she needed help, and her gut fills with anger. She’d lost everything to those bandits and all she got when she asked for help was mocking and berating. She had felt so vulnerable, a feeling she never wanted to revisit. 

“You’re a strong woman, Ginnie Bee,” Dutch pulls her attention toward him, a sympathetic look in his eyes. “I can’t imagine what you went through but I am honored to help you get the justice you deserve. Thank you for trusting me.”

He smiles at her and she feels her gut twist with butterflies. She laughs, “Don’t go getting all sappy like that on me, Dutch. I can’t associate myself with a man who gets all misty-eyed and poetic.”   
Dutch joins her laughter, head tipping back as he clutches his chest. He shakes his head as their laughter dies down and says, “No, I suppose a woman of your reputation cannot.”

They settle into a brief, but comfortable silence before Ginnie stands. 

“I suppose if that’s all then I’ll take my leave.”

“Of course.” Dutch nods and follows her out of his tent. They shake hands, Ginnie bids farewell to Charles as he unpacks his spoils from hunting, and mounts her horse. With the last wave to Dutch, Ginnie leads her horse into a trot down the trail back toward her camp. Dutch leans back against his tent pole, eyes following the receding figure of Ginnie. He rubs his chin thoughtfully, contemplating his next meeting with the Banzette Raiders’ leader when Arthur and Hosea approach.

“You got it bad, Dutch.” Hosea murmurs, keeping his voice low to prevent anyone from overhearing. Dutch glances at him sharply, frowning at what he was hinting at.

“You’re not implying, what I think you’re implyin’ are you Hosea?” Dutch growls.

“Everyone can see it clear as day, Dutch. Everyone but you ‘n her that is.” Arthur retorts. 

Dutch opens his mouth to reply, but stops and leans back, contemplating what his oldest friends had just said. Sure he looked forward to seeing her and enjoyed the few times they’d worked together to rob some trains, and maybe he liked the small talks they had, like the one in the tent, but by no means did he fancy her. Even if he did they were far too busy running their gangs and being outlaws to ever even consider courting each other. Weren’t they? His heart thumps quickly as he dwells on Ginnie, the way she had hugged him by the cliff and spun around. She had been glowing, her arms tight around him and he hadn’t wanted her to let go. A small hand touches his arm and he finds Molly staring up at him with fluttering lashes. Hosea and Arthur had left him when he had receded into his thoughts. Molly’s hand travels to grip his own, gently tugging him into his tent. He allows himself to be pulled in and tries to push any thoughts of Ginnie into the recesses of his mind.


End file.
